


Nanometer

by LunarisXXXIII



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gift Fic, Implied/Referenced Violence, M/M, One Shot, Semi-Graphic Injury, Swearing, Violence, mafia/gangs, questionable morals, sorry if ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarisXXXIII/pseuds/LunarisXXXIII
Summary: Sans is just walking home from his job down some convenient back alleys when he runs into some less-than-friendly individuals. Misunderstandings ensueRed is returning home from his own (significantly more shady) job when he happens across a whole gaggle of idiots.*Sighs*This is his problem now isn’t it?





	Nanometer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NariaLucy96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NariaLucy96/gifts).
  * Inspired by [blind healing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087909) by [NariaLucy96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NariaLucy96/pseuds/NariaLucy96). 

> Based on an alternate idea for the first chapter of NariaLucy96’s fic blind healing
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087909

Sans sighed as he looked over the notification his brother had sent, telling him that Papyrus wouldn’t be able to drive him home, the roads far too dangerous with the current weather. There was no way Sans could ask his brother to take a risk like that when he was perfectly capable of walking and, like Papyrus said, he wasn’t a babybones, he could tough it out. So, hood up, he opened up the back door to his job and set out on his way home.

Usually Sans actually didn’t mind walking home, even at night. He didn’t like to make a habit of it for safety reasons, but the city that he lived in had surprisingly little light pollution. This meant that most times, a walk home meant he got to simply enjoy the view, pale light from the stars and moon throwing his surroundings into odd dusty grey hues. Admiring it all was a nice distraction from... Well, pretty much everything going wrong in his life recently.

Unfortunately, tonight was not one of those nights. Tonight he was greeted by pounding rain and darkness, the shadows of the alley making it difficult to even see where he was going and turning what should have been a relaxing - albeit tired - walk into a miserable trudge. With how deep the water had gotten, he had to be extra careful not to trip in the deceptively large puddles scattered about. He was certain that his fragile HP wouldn’t allow him to get back up if he took a particularly nasty spill on the concrete.

He was yanked from his thoughts by a human stepping out into the alley in front of him, effectively blocking his path. 

Talk about people you don’t wanna meet in a dark alley. The guy was pretty tall and had that thuggish tough-guy look that was only accentuated by the sneer he was throwing in Sans’ direction. 

Sans quickly glanced around, trying to find another alley to escape down, but to no avail. Unless he backtracked and bolted towards where he came from, there was no separate route for him to take. He only had enough magic for a shortcut maybe a stone’s throw away, which probably wouldn’t even serve to confuse him. The guy was also probably a lot faster than Sans (most people were), so running away would be useless.

Before he could even take a step a large hand clamped down on his arm and Sans whirled to face another human he hadn’t noticed sneaking up on him.

Uh oh.

Sans raised his hands in a placating gesture, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. “look fellas, if you’re lookin’ for cash i don’t have a whole lot on me bu-“

“Shut the hell up.” The mugger(?) who had previously been at the end of the alleyway growled at him before turning to the other human. “Can’t believe we got sent all the way out here for this.”

“You sure this is the guy? ‘E doesn’t look all that tough.”

“The hell do ya mean ‘am I sure?’ How many short-ass skeletons do ya see walkin’ ‘round here?”

“Doesn’ look like an angry skeleton guy. I mean those guys said ‘e was freaky lookin bastard, ‘n sides bein’ a skeleton ‘es not even spooky.”

“It’s not our problem they’re a bunch of chickenshits.”

What the hell was this all about? Sans was beginning to doubt this was a simple mugging at this point. And why were they looking for a skeleton specifically? As far as he knew, himself, his brother and his brother’s boyfriend Edge were the only skeletons around here and the previous two couldn’t be considered short by any stretch of the imagination.

Sans finally found his voice again. “i-uh... i think you may have the wrong skeleton here fellas.”

The humans turned towards him, apparently having forgotten him during their argument. The one with a grip on his shoulder glowered down at him menacingly.

Sans chuckled nervously, a strained grin stretching across his face as he struggled to diffuse the situation. “_tibia_ honest, i don’t consider myself a real angry guy, words hurt y’know.” He punctuated his statement with a lighthearted wink.

Rather than lightening the mood, his attempts at humor only seemed to piss them off further. He was yanked up by his arm and lifted bodily until he was face-to-face with the human, the stench of tobacco assaulting (he- not funny) his senses as they snarled at him.

“Don’ think we give a shit about that ya little bastard. We’re plannin on hurtin’ ya with a hell of a lot more than just words.”

Well shit.

“That’s right.” The other laughed, before turning to his ally. “You know what? Right one or not, I think our friend here needs to be taught a lesson about talking out of turn.” He said with a wicked grin on his face. 

If Sans had skin he would’ve blanched at that statement. He struggled in the human’s grip, his toes not even managing to scrape the ground. 

“You’ve gotta be real careful with these monster types so they don’t die, so no playing around.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sans only had time to feel a brief moment of panic before he was slammed face-first into the wall, a sharp pain and the crunch of bone following him into unconsciousness.

——————

Red swore under his breath as his socks were once again soaked with gritty water from the alley, glaring at the puddle he had stepped in as if it was the sole (heh) cause of all his problems lately.

First the mission he had been sent on had been washed out for no apparent goddamned reason and _then_ as he was out there, it had started pouring rain, which meant he was going to be walking back to his car during some of the heaviest rainfall the city had seen all month. Great, just great.

As he came upon a side alley, he managed to make out a couple voices, apparently in the middle of some sort of argument. While it was probably some drunks or a local gang, some of the few people that would willingly be outside in this weather, the potential threat nearby was enough to put his senses on high alert. Call him paranoid, but was it really paranoia if there was someone (or maybe a lot of someones) out there who would be more than happy to see him dust?

“...sent out...

“...doesn’t look all that tough..”

“...short-ass skeleton walkin’ round here...”

That got Red’s attention. He shrank into the shadows and crept closer to the alley, deathly silent as he peeked around the corner.

There were two humans, from the looks of them some kind of low-level thug, and dangling from an angry human’s grip was a skeleton that Red vaguely recognized. 

The guy was his brother’s-boyfriend’s-brother (try saying that three times fast) whom Red had never met before. The only reason he even knew what the guy looked like was that Edge had sent him several pictures to ‘prove that Red wasn’t the weakest monster in existence’. <strike>What was his name again? Sand? Sam? He was certain he’d heard it at some point...</strike>

Honestly though.

The guy was just sitting there like a deer in the headlights, staring up at the human who’d grabbed him. No survival skills whatsoever, which was kind of sad considering that according to Edge, the guy had even less HP to work with than Red.

His brother had mentioned to him at one point that they looked vaguely similar and, upon seeing a photo of the monster in question, he’d had to agree. Though the other skeleton was smaller and wimpier-looking, they had a few general features in common, like large eye sockets with glowing eye lights and a toothy near-permanent grin. Hell, the guy even seemed to like wearing hooded jackets and shorts just like-

His eyes widened in realization, having to struggle to contain a chuckle as the absurdity of the situation set in.

As much as he was indifferent to <strike>or maybe disliked</strike> the other skeleton, he really hated the idea that there were a couple of up-and-coming morons out there who couldn’t even get their shit together long enough to go after the right person. Not to mention that this guy getting offed would probably make his brother unhappy, which would in turn make Edge unhappy, where it would then become Red’s problem.

He was torn from his musings by the unnerving _crunch_ of breaking bone and looking back at the group, he felt his eye lights nearly gutter out in shock. 

The human had mashed the guy’s face against the wall, leaving a gaping crack in his forehead, but though he’d seen a lot of people injured in his line of work - both monster and human - this guy was the only monster he’d ever known to actually _bleed_. When they were killed, monsters crumbled away into dusty powder and reacted similarly when they were hurt or injured. Oozing weird liquids was definitely outside of their normal wheelhouse.

The crimson blood(?) seeped lazily from the monster’s wounds, only highlighting the fact that he was _somehow still alive_ even with shittier HP than even Red could boast.

Now **that** was interesting.

For what it’s worth, the humans seemed similarly surprised by this turn of events, giving Red plenty of time to sneak up behind the pair of them.

<strike>It was over before they even knew what hit them.</strike>

Red was then gripping the guy under one arm; half dragging, half carrying him the rest of the way to where his car waited. He was going to have to figure out how to heal the guy, food or a medic or something. After all, they couldn’t figure out how the guy ticked if he was a pile of dust...

**Author's Note:**

> This went through several rounds of editing and re-writes and I still don’t think I’m completely happy with the result. :/
> 
> *Me realizing that I didn’t give Red any real lines*
> 
> “...”
> 
> Anyways! Criticism appreciated!


End file.
